I pray that I can find the words (PG-13)

[raine]

The Infinity bookstore sat on a lonely corner down Central avenue, wedged between a tattoo parlor and a shopping mall. The building was rather small, in and of itself, made of brick and mortar as many other buildings were. There was, in fact, hardly anything truly noticeable at all; it had an old coke sign hanging about the door, and the shop's name etched into the front window, but in and of itself, the building could be overlooked by a passing stranger. The inside, however, was filled to the brim with books, and it stretched so far back that it seemed to go on infinitely. There were many different rooms, their sections written above the doorways and filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, one row after another. To Melisande, and many others, it was a second home; a place that one could go to and relax, for in the very front of the store, before the front window, was a reading nook, chairs and couches as well as a window-seat piled high with pillows. It was, all in all, a comfortable place, made even more so by the small, cheery fire in the corner during winter.

It was summer, though, and so the fire's grate was closed, and the front door left open to let in some air. Mel stood behind the counter, checking inventory and counting cash. She had just enough for this month's mortgage payment--which was quite a lot, all by itself. A few more sales, and she could pay the electricity bill, as well. It was hard, dropping out of school and starting her own business, but she managed it well enough, and she got to know her community better than she ever had at school--people like her, people who loved books and quiet places to read, and not the loud, obnoxious ones who liked other things.

Infinity was a haven for that; and she quite liked it that way.

[verfaullen]

‘Call Your Name’ by Daughtry was playing on his iPod, stuck in his right jean pocket. There wasn’t a particular reason to why the song was playing. Rather, usually by now, Noah would hit the next button. Yet, his fingers simply gripped around it, while his other hand was stuffed in his other pocket. The blank face he wore was enough to guess what was running through his head at this moment. And, the clothes on his back were yesterdays, too. A simple blue t-shirt with a white summer sweater over top, the hood was abnormally covering his shaggy black hair.

It was obviously to hide his swollen red eyes.

He drew his orange phone from his pocket with his free hand, staring at the recent number of texts he had gotten. The news had probably spread around like a wild fire, which was the cause for seventy three new messages in his inbox. Yet, his face didn’t look as if he cared much about it. He simply shoved the phone back into his pocket. Instead, he continued to walk the lit streets. A few planted trees to his left and open shops to the right. It was a Friday evening, causing the small sidewalks to be crowded with people wishing to see the live concerts played at the bars not far from where he strolled.

Yet, he didn’t hear much over his music. The white headphone strings danged before him, always a single step ahead as he stretched his long legs forward. No one pushed or complained – to what he could tell – and, the more he walked towards his destination, the lesser the crowd became. They were all flocking together like a herd of cattle in the same direction. A soft sigh escaped through his lips as he slowed to a corner stop, the pedestrian lights flashed red as soon as he came near. The cars began to flood the tiny street once more, and minutes later like a dance, they stopped.

It was his turn, as he walked across. No one was in his path now, he simply continued on without taking a pause. He took a turn on Central Avenue, slowing as he came towards a tattoo parlor, and then the bookstore. ‘Infinity’ was written on the window. Simple, but likeable. Noah, however, didn’t change in composure when he glanced into it. He took his pause then and, as if desperately trying to catch something, quickened his pace through the entrance. Sneaking around the employee counter with a hand slowly reaching out like a lost child to his mother at the woman standing there. He didn’t pause to ask, only wrapped his arms around her, and sunk his head down on her shoulder.

His expression twisted from nothingness to scrunching in pain, grief and despair. He wanted his hair ruffled. He wanted to be held. And told more than, ‘I’m sorry’. The music skipping to ‘Superman’ by Five for Fighting as one of the ear pieces fell from his ear.

[raine]

She had, of course, heard the news. It spread at the speed of gossip, and as soon as one person knew, more of the whole town did. It was horrible; she remembered Noah, from her school days before she'd dropped out, and it didn't seem he deserved something like this. She hadn't heard the cause of death, which was only to be expected, but she had wanted to see him here tonight. Infinity was, after all, a haven, and it was desperately apparent that he needed one. When he came into the store, she let him pull her into his arms and duck his head into her shoulder, wrapping her own arms around his back soothingly and bringing her hands up to rub soothing circles in his shoulder blades. From this angle, she could hear the music blasting out of his earphones, and tsk'd softly before pulling back a bit to take them out for him. As she moved to do so, her eyes dropped to lock on his, and she gave him a solemn look, one that conveyed how sorry she was without the words that had, over time, become meaningless.

She tucked her head back into his shoulder after her movements, and sighed softly in his ear, her eyes drifting up to the skylight overhead. There was a dark cloud hovering there, visible even at night, and it caused her to smile softly. Gently pulling away and moving to take his hand, she pointed up at it, her smile blissful and her eyes glazed. Look, Noah. She couldn't wait to see you from her new view. Her words came softly, and there was no trace of mockery or sarcasm in them. Indeed, this was what she truly believed, and it was those beliefs that people had mocked her for in school. Now, in her own shop and in the arms of one she considered a friend, she felt no need to try and "normalize" herself, but let her strangeness, in all its glory, flow.

She made to tighten her grip on his hand, beginning to walk away toward the stairs in the back--they lead to her apartment, above the building, and also to her balcony. She hoped he would follow, rather than pulling away, and moved farther up the stairs and up into her bachelorette pad, crossing the floor with long strides of her very short legs and pulling back the glass door that lead to her personal view. The cloud, when she stepped onto the balcony, was still there, and she smiled her blissful smile again and waved at it, wishing for Noah to do the same.

[verfaullen]

She hugged him back like she knew what was wrong. Perhaps she did. Those who knew him were probably chattering about it by now. Some didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut and, usually, no one was close to the boy. He couldn’t name a ‘best friend’ like those he had in Kindergarten. So, he just leaned on a girl he barely knew. She was a ‘friend’ too, but not like the others. They talked here and there at school once in a while, but she wasn’t like the people he usually hung around. Personality wise, she was those typically left unknown by Noah.

Her soothing comfort was enough to make him seemingly calm, relaxed. He even started to close his eyes, tilting his weight on her shoulder to the point when she moved away for a few moments, he put off balance. His hand reached to awkwardly grip the side of the counter as she took the headphones from him. Blinking as if he seemingly forgot it was even playing, he moved his hand, turning off the music completely before Mel welcomed him back into a calming embrace. If he knew being close to her would bring out such a friend, he would have approached her sooner.

He didn’t notice her smile – not yet at least – as he, once more, began to lean in a relax state of mind. Noah didn’t have to think. He could simply be spoiled in attention for a moment. That was enough for him to completely ‘forget’ the fact that the only person closest to him in this world, was no longer here. Like a moment to breathe.

Mel, however, softly pulled away from him. He stepped back, looking rather confused with a pout upon his lips until she pointed at a looming, dark cloud in the sky. She wore a blissful smile as she spoke, a spark seemingly in her eyes. At first, he didn’t understand why she was pointing at such an intimidating cloud instead of, perhaps, a star. But nonetheless, the truth was that Mel knew. She knew. His eyes didn’t move from that cloud for a few moments, not until she took his hand and began to direct him towards the stairs.

That was when he started to pay attention. They were in an open shop and he had embarrassedly wrapped his arms around the owner in front of the window where everyone could see. Surely if anyone knew him, they would begin to spread the rumor around once more like an invincible wildfire. He glanced, remembering that his hood was covering most of his face, however. So, there was no exact proof. They couldn’t tell who it was, simply a lonely boy getting a hug from a friend.

They took their steps up the stairs and into an apartment, his eyes wondering from room to room as they passed through. Messily scattered everywhere were books and papers while the bookstore was nearly spotless. It was quite the interesting discovery, but with the glass door opened and leading into a balcony with quite the view, his attention was completely captured by it. He quirked an eyebrow, glimpsing to Mel as she waved and back to the cloud.

If it truly was his mother, how could he not wave? His hand slowly rose, waving towards the cloud with a small, awkward smile of his before it grew. “Hi, Mum,” he murmured, squeezing his shoulders closer together as he drew his hand back to his pocket. Even if he was sad, the last thing he wanted her to see of him was tears. Noah didn’t want her to linger, didn’t want her to be worried over him. For he would somehow be okay, he would suck it up.

He would tell Mel about what had actually happened later. For now, his mother needed to see he was okay. He had a person that could make him smile and feel okay. Taking in a breath, he stepped back, swerving on his feet to stand next to Mel and lean on the silver railing of the balcony. “Will she forgive me… if I say I miss her?”

[raine]

Mel couldn't care less what the people passing on the street thought; they could see what it was however they pleased, but she knew, and Noah knew, that he needed a hug. She didn't think to close up shop before she lead him upstairs, though, as she turned to climb them, she noticed an old woman, a frequent customer, do it for her, swinging the sign around and closing the door gently behind her as she left. Melisande would have to thank her, later; for now, they had more important things to do. She opened the trapdoor leading to her apartment into the entry way, ignoring the mess of papers and books strewn about the tables, chairs and floor. Hachi sat on the kitchen counter, eating seeds out of the dog bowl she'd gotten him for Christmas, and eying them shrewdly, his stare nearly turning malevolent as he saw Noah come up behind her. Hachi wasn't a big fan of competition, especially male competition; he was under the distinct belief that Mel was his and his alone, and even customers were occasionally chased out by the bird. It was why she kept him up here while she was working.

Mel ignored him for the moment and moved to the balcony, stepping away from Noah and finally releasing his hand to give him a moment of privacy. She moved to the opposite side of the balcony, instead, and leaned on the railing, searching the sky for her own cloud--for her parents. Mel managed to spot one that was small and fluffy-white, barely a cut in the sky, and she waved cheerfully at it, smiling. It was to her belief, and her father's, that clouds hid rips in the sky; windows, one might say, to another world. The world of the dead. And that, through these clouds, their loved ones whom had passed on were looking down on them, making sure they moved on--and moving on themselves. The world they were in after death was, after all, a utopia; no illness, no war, the weather constantly as they wished it to be. A paradise, and one well deserved, after the lives they'd lead so tirelessly for years.

Mel herself had been visited by that fluffy cloud for years; as a child, her mother looked down on her, and as a teenager, her father had joined her. The sky had cried for days, along with her, when he passed on; it didn't stop until three days after she did, but then, her father had been an emotional man. His death had been the reason she dropped out--without his part-time job to support her, she'd needed to come up with some other way, fast. That had been the bookstore, and now, nearly four years later, he still visited her occasionally. Not as often as he had before; he was moving on, as he should. As she had.

Noah's question startled her out of her thoughts, but she didn't jump or whip her head around, as some more aggressive person might; she turned slowly, her smile still in place and her eyes distant. "Oh, I don't think they mind. She misses you too, you know--that's why she made a window. And such a big, frightening one! I've no doubt she misses you quite a lot." Melisande paused, as if to think about her next words, before she added, much more quietly, "But their world is better than ours, and she'll move on soon. It wouldn't be good for either of you if she checked up on you all the time for the rest of your life, you know? And see, there--" She pointed to the fluffy cloud that was slowly drifting to merge with the larger one, "My parents are coming to help her cope. She'll no doubt make friends soon."

It was all meant to be comforting, though Mel wasn't very good at that sort of thing; it came out in a rather matter-of-fact sort of way, as if that was just the way things were and they'd all have to deal with it, in time. Not the best attitude for a grief-stricken friend, perhaps, but in that way she was simply being Mel.